Tag Archives: life

This next story was to be the ongoing installment of our (mine and Hubby’s) 3-month retirement journey – this was before COVID-19 worked its way into our knowledge.

This was before our kids came to visit us in our bubble of pickleball fun and relaxation in Arizona.

This was before we became disappointed that our activities were being cancelled.

This was before we became shocked and alarmed at the news of a new virus, of illness, of death, and before we became certain we needed to pack our belongings quickly and head home to BC, Canada.

As I’ve had a few weeks to absorb and somewhat adjust to life as it is today, I’m finally able to sit at the computer and edit the story that has sat waiting…. daring me to continue.

The story is trivial in comparison to what is happening in our world but it has given me pause to think about what goes on in the background of people’s lives, what may be happening as they encounter events which forces them to adjust thinking, to correct behaviors or to recognize undesirable actions in themselves.

I wonder how parents are managing cooped up in their homes, floundering with the lack of regular schedules, single people with too many hours without human chats, far too many people without a warm hug or touch, seniors without proper support or not allowed to be near family…and the list goes on.

The Clash

I’m assuming many of us have seen THAT couple – you know the one, where you are out minding your own business, enjoying a lovely afternoon, perhaps in a store, having just paid for your groceries, daydreaming, walking to your car thinking about a great dinner ahead or some other pleasant thought when suddenly a sound catches your attention.

And, there she is, about twenty feet away but in front of you, and you have nowhere to go but backwards or stop, but no, out of curiosity you keep walking and so does she…talking to herself or at the man who is several steps in front of her.

Maybe… he may be her husband but who can assume that part.

The senior citizen lady is all decked out in coordinated sports clothes, a bright golden tee-shirt and black capri’s and her running shoes are moving like she’s on a march. Her hands are waving with punctuated gestures and some of her fingers are snapping but the words she is speaking which are rushing out at top speed aren’t discernible.

What seems clear by the body language is that the lady is angry. Rigid. Jerky. Words that sound sharp. Clipped.

And what is the assumed husband doing? He’s hanging on to the cart full of groceries with what appears to be a grip like that cart is about to be yanked out of his hands, but he keeps moving forward, never saying a word.

One step at a time until he reaches the car, unlocks the trunk, allows the lid to rise to its top and begins to unload the cart of groceries sliding them into position making sure that nothing will fall over. Every movement careful and deliberate. Quietly.

He then gets into the driver’s side of the car and waits.

Well, if it were me, I’d be curious to know what the problem was and part of me would want to inch myself just a wee bit closer to see what was going to happen next.

Another part of me might wonder what that man had done to spark such animated gestures and feisty one-sided conversation.

But then I’d reach my own car, put away my groceries and upon noticing that nothing violent was happening I’d get into my own thoughts, shake my head perhaps and wonder about such a display of frustration out in public.

I’d smugly think I was so glad it wasn’t me behaving like that and perhaps do a little tsk-tsk as I put my car into reverse, then drive away, on to my own business.

To my utter horror, I discovered that senior citizen couple, that woman, was indeed me.

That was us, that stomping woman and grocery cart man, just a regular looking recently retired couple, trying to adjust to way too much stimulation over a period of weeks while on holiday.

What stopped the whole scenario from moving forward into any more outburst of angry words was me noticing a person I knew, who seemed oblivious to our display and lack of harmony.

As this person rolled her own grocery cart up behind us but across the lane, it startled me into a momentary stunned silence. We then spoke our hellos and exchanged a couple of sentences of words I cannot remember. We said our goodbyes and parted ways.

I got in our car; actually, I slunk into the front passenger side and wanted to crumble right down to the floor.

Hubby backed up the car then drove away.

I felt a hot wave rush to my cheeks and slither over my whole body as I instant re-played the last couple of minutes that I’d been flapping around like a chicken in distress.

Hubby did not say a word; he has a kind of irritating wisdom about him at time likes these.

It took us a couple of days to sort out what had led up to what seemed like a major incident to me but upon reflection and distance, was not.

It took a couple of days because we had to fit communicating into the routine of walking, going to the pool, riding our bicycles to the pickleball courts, eating, watching tv and avoiding talking.

There had been a few separate occasions of attitudes, comments and behaviors which happened that built up because they were not discussed. Perhaps we tired, bored, or some things had not gone our way…?

But then the tiny tipping point happened and is the only item which is discussed here as the other ‘stuff’ is no longer important.

We had come out of the grocery store, I began talking to Hubby about some black barbecues sitting outside the store that I wanted to look at a little bit closer, but I wasn’t looking at him as I moved towards them. I was looking at the barbecues.

Hubby wasn’t looking at me. He was busy watching for cars, crossing the lane and walking himself and the grocery cart in the direction of our parked car; thus, he didn’t hear me speaking.

I kept talking until I finally looked over in the direction of where I thought he’d be, toddling along behind me…he wasn’t.

Upon reflection (a couple days of it) I had been embarrassed, standing around talking to myself, totally not his fault but that didn’t matter in the moment.

I became that woman. You know the rest of the story…

Further thoughts.

In these last week’s I’ve become so focused on what is truly important.

My family. My friends. My faith – where I get my hope and my peace.

I continue to find joy and laughter in the midst of chaos, fear, yes, some fear, and like you, am daily dealing with new learning curves.

This time of uncertainty is, after all, also the continuing story of mine and Hubby’s retirement journey; writing about it allows me to reflect, burn off some brain energy and helps me adjust to living most of life in the house. The two of us…

We are both adjusting to the reality that he’ll likely be going back to work too soon for my comfort level – for COVID-19 and other critical incident staff support for front line workers in the health care setting.

For now, we walk a bit, we talk, we pray, watch the news and feel whatever comes next.

Please leave your comments and how you are doing during this current season of life.

Friday the 13th 2019 was the last day of work for Hubby. Ross is his name but I do like the term Hubby so this is what I will likely stick with.

I’m not into the whole superstition thing but it is quite amazing how certain things learned from childhood hang around, like it being a bad luck day, don’t walk in front of a black cat, throw salt over your left shoulder or right, step over a crack or you’ll break your mothers back and that is all supposed to ward off bad things.

I grew up with all that vast knowledge, which didn’t mean much then, and even less now but someone has made mention of the date of Hubby’s retirement and that is what triggered all the memory quotes.

Well, no bad luck events took place and obviously Hubby didn’t take any notice of the date either. It was all about the dates lining up for the best possible scenario for holidays which began Friday and extending into January 23, 2020 which will be the official retirement date.

It was also all about dates and taxes.

Hubby had his farewell work event, cards and gifts given, hugs and best wishes and a boot out the door. Done.

Actually, he was well respected and will be missed by those who were supported by him and with those with whom he worked. Hubby assisted people in crisis, taught workshops on grief, loss and resiliency and emotional first aid…and much more. I wasn’t there and knew very few of ‘his people’ so will just leave it at that.

He’s taken his gift of new binoculars and packed them for our upcoming trip and is waiting for a new piece of luggage which may or may not arrive before we leave.

One of the gifts he received from his closest colleague is a wooden plaque of one of hubby’s favorite quotes, “Anyone who willingly enters into the pain of a stranger is truly a remarkable person” by Henri J.M. Nouwen. It sits prominently on our fireplace mantle.

We, as in me, our daughter TL, our son Ra and our daughter in law Ca, had our own event, a family pizza making night and gave hubby some new bike shorts and a snazzy shirt… nice gift but really it is a motivational device to get him out of the house and staying active.

He likes bike riding so it won’t be a new experience – he will just look a lot better doing it.

If I know him… and I do, he will find some random patch and sew it or glue it onto his shirt. It will be some gleaming adoration for the Chicago Blackhawks hockey team.

Pickleball workshop for people from Hubby’s work environment. That was fun. I and two of our pickleball friends assisted with reigning in the keener’s and encouraging the shyer ones.

Arranging plans for looking after our beloved Thomas the Cat…upcoming Vet appointment to get an anal gland expression done. Just imagine that for a minute.

The list for cleaning the house is growing…we have a person moving in and well, the house needs to be presentable.

There are still ten days until departure and events to attend, appetizer and drinks, friends to see, annual 24th extended family dinner and gift exchange, one more pair of baby booties to crochet, likely a last minute gift to buy, our immediate family breakfast, gift exchange and dinner, then our main tidy and pack day and we will be off…

But first, Hubby doesn’t know this yet. I have arranged a date for us. We are going for a manicure and a pedicure. This is all so self-serving of course.

Hubby will be switching shoes soon for flip flops and I may be sitting next to his feet on a lounge chair. I want to like what I see.

Do you ever look at life – your own life and wish one thing could stay exactly as it is while longing to change one or more areas, again either of self or others or even situations. I do.

In the above painting I really liked the sky and how the light shimmered over the hills and sandy beach.

However the sand was too dark and the rock cliff in the foreground not defined enough for my liking so I began to mess with it. I wanted to get rid of all the green that injected itself into the sea. It wasn’t there before and I wondered how I missed it – though I’d put it there.

I have a lot of life to look back on from where I am today, facing life as a senior and in the last five years much self reflection has taken place. It puts me right at today.

When my house is clean, the sun is shining and all is well in my relationships I believe life just couldn’t get any better. I live by the ocean and can soak up the sound of bubbling ripples whenever I want. My adult children live close enough to visit regularly. I’m not working to earn a living any more – hubby is the one who goes off each day and will continue that for a few more years. Much of time is my own – an enviable state for many people.

Yet on a dark and dismal day as the drops run down the window my tears sometimes match the flow. When a relationship conversation turns in a direction I didn’t anticipate I am left with a crumpled pile of emotions sitting in my lap and I can feel paralyzed.

I try to balance the dark days and bask in the light days – but sometimes I am simply not in control. Then, I must look in, look out, seek help – let go. Move forward.

I lost some of the lightness in the sky and the plan is to find it again but it will take work.

My cliffs are taking shape, the green sea is not so stormy any longer and the sand is slowly shifting to a softer glow. It is a work in progress. Like me. And, perhaps you.

I’ve shared in some life altering experiences in the past several months that have both closed me up inside so I can reflect and opened me up to live life fully so I don’t miss the purpose of my being here. I want to tell the whole story yet feel resistant so others are protected because it isn’t just about me.

I now understand the conflict within when writing memoir, the unwillingness to expose, hurt or make public that which may cause problems relationally while at the same time story within keeps banging the ‘walls’ to come out.

Thus, I have not been writing. I’ve been walking, running, playing Pickleball and sitting staring into space. Even my journal hasn’t seen much of me. A big rolling ball of words have been stuck inside waiting for the right moment to spit out into story form. For now it is titles and opening lines.

A friends elderly father passed away and I was honored to be a small part of this journey for his last month at home. A daughters love and respect for her father is forever imprinted on my heart.

An extended family member – a young man, died suddenly. His funeral was both terribly sad yet filled with life, stories of his life and what God can do with it, if one lets that happen.

On a gym floor, a man drops with a heart attack and I am there. The staff put their training to action. I see, hear, react and act. I become part of a team and watch a wonder woman give life giving support. I pray.

I have three and a half hours of training, then three days of work for Elections BC, in care homes which gives its residents the right to vote. For many this is the end of life and I am left confused with the blur of walkers, wheelchairs, happy or grumpy greetings and in some cases questions of ‘why am I here?’

Indeed…this is my question too. Life and death and death and life – speaking to me.